The Future is Black
by LastationLover5000
Summary: In the present, Gohan is the saviour of Earth. In the future, Trunks is that saviour. After putting a stop to the revival of Majin Buu, Trunks is faced with his greatest opponent yet — an opponent with the face of an old friend and, worse, his overwhelming power. A tie-in story to my ever-popular Erased Chronicles!
1. The Future is Black

**"The Future is Black"**

( _Mirai wa Buraku_ )

 **Written by: JacobKingston10  
Edited by: LastationLover5000**

* * *

"Again."

A command, spoken softly.

"Hiyah!"

Obedience in a shout.

A great sword spun upwards and shined brilliantly as it caught the sunlight.

It never had a chance to fall. A hand was there to catch it.

"Excellent, Trunks! That was incredible swordsmanship!"

Of course it was. Trunks had always been an incredible swordsman. He trained every day to hone his talents so that he might never again lose a battle. Even in peacetime, he didn't allow himself to become lax. He told himself that it was his father's fault, and perhaps that wasn't an exaggeration. He remembered every detail of his father's rigorous training and realized that he had taken a great deal away from his time there. But most importantly was this: _Never allow yourself to become weak!_

He remembered it in his father's voice. Vegeta's was a voice that would never leave him — even now, when they were separated by seventeen long years.

He turned to his spectators and smiled. "All the credit goes to you, Lord Kaiōshin. Had I been left to my own devices, I'd never have been able to hone myself to this degree."

A lie, but only a small one.

The Kaiōshin's training had indeed been beneficial. The Z-Sword was so much different than his own. It had proven itself difficult to master, but Trunks had succeeded nevertheless. He knew he would. He was the son of the world's greatest scientific mind and the prince of all Saiyans — there was nothing he couldn't do once his mind was made up. Nothing.

"To think a human would be capable of wielding the Z-Sword," remarked a visibly impressed Kibito. "I still can't believe it!"

The Kaiōshin beamed. "Yes, it's quite remarkable. I think it's time to put the final touches on his training."

"What do you have in mind?" Trunks asked.

The Kaiōshin answered by lifting his hand over his head. A large, black cube appeared there an instant later and Trunks frowned up at it. It was a metallic cube, glinting in the sunlight as the Z-Sword had done. Yet, it was no metal he was familiar with.

"This" said the Kaiōshin. "is Kachinko. It is, to be frank, the hardest substance in the universe. Let us see for ourselves if the legendary Z-Sword is as sharp as the legends foretell."

Trunks smirked. He was also eager to test the sword's mettle. He assumed a stance, like a batter ready to hit the pitch. "Sounds like a plan! I'm ready whenever you are!"

The Kaiōshin drew back to throw the immense cube, but never got the chance to go through with his plan. Kibito jolted as though he had just been struck in the back of the head with a stone and jerked around to face the eastern horizon of the sacred world.

"Kaiōshin!" he gasped. "Babidi is on the move! It appears the time has finally come…"

The Kaiōshin looked nothing less than confident, and Trunks basked in unspoken praise. He was ready. More ready than he had ever been. He knew about it all — Babidi, and Majin Bū — thanks to the Kaiōshin, and he vowed not to allow his world to fall to them as it nearly had to the Androids. Those days were long over and, if he had anything to say about it, they would stay that way.

"Right," the Kaiōshin said. "Let's go, Trunks! The Z-Sword is in your hands, so I am certain that we can win!"

Trunks smirked again. "Right."

—

A high-pitched, maniacal laughter peeled towards the sky. "Oh my! You seem to be in a great deal of pain, Kaiōshin! Maybe I should be polite and grant you a mercy-killing!"

Trunks ignored Babidi's banter and focused entirely on the fight at hand. Dābura was pressing him. There was no denying that. Even at the Super Saiyan level, and with the Z-Sword as his weapon, Trunks found himself to be in a dead heat with the demon lord. Worse, Dābura seemed to be enjoying himself if the crooked smirk plastered across his crimson face was any indication.

Then, in a surprising move, the demon brought his lips together and spat at Trunks' weapon. The sword began to harden at once and Trunks could no longer hold in his surprise.

"Trunks," shouted the Kaiōshin below. "Drop it! You'll be turned to stone!"

Trunks didn't have a chance to obey. Dābura's fist connected with the side of his head with such stunning force that he couldn't have held onto his weapon if he had wanted to. As the Z-Sword fell, the Kaiōshin's warning was fulfilled — it was soon entirely rock, and, when it struck the ground, it crumbled into dust.

Dābura pressed his attack, swinging his sword in a definitive arc in an effort to cleave Trunks in two; but Trunks was no rookie. He caught the sword between his palms and held it. Dābura's strength made his effort difficult, but Trunks refused to give him anymore ground.

The demon smirked. "Not so smug now, are you, boy?"

Trunks gritted his teeth. Dābura's smirk widened. The demon lord delivered a swift kick to Trunks' ribs, robbing him of the air in his lungs, and sent him sailing towards the ground. The young half-Saiyan managed to catch himself at the last moment, skidding to a stop alongside Kaiōshin and Kibito.

"Now," continued Dābura, his grin fading and he extended his palm for the finishing blow. His face creased with concentration. "I'll send all three of you into oblivion at the same time!"

Trunks bit back a stream of curses. His muscles ached, his ace weapon was in shambles, and meanwhile, Dābura didn't seem the least bit drained from their skirmish. He had one move left — a failsafe he had picked up from his father in the past — but he wasn't sure he had enough energy left in him to preform it.

 _I used up too much power against Babidi's other minions_ , he thought bitterly. _If only I'd conserved more power…_

"I'm sorry, Trunks," the Kaiōshin said ruefully. "Forgive me… I hadn't anticipated Dābura becoming one of Babidi's pawns."

Babidi looked euphoric. "Pocus and Yakon were only decoys, you fools! Puppets to bring you here!" — he snickered — "I've spent far too long gathering the necessary energy to bring back Majin Bū! _Ten years!_ I can't possibly fail now!"

Those words, as it turned out, were the Kaiōshin's breaking point. In a move that jolted Trunks from his angry daze, the Kaiōshin burst into action and flew at Babidi. Trunks saw the desperation in the deity's eyes as he raised his fist to end the wizard's life; he also saw Dābura change his aim at the last moment, but by then it was too late to stop him.

"Da– Dābura!" Babidi squealed.

He was answered by a blast the color of magma. The bolt of malicious energy screamed through the air from Dābura's palm and connected with the Kaiōshin an instant later. He was forced to shield his eyes as the resulting blast engulfed the Kaiōshin and shook the ground beneath his feet. When he opened them again, the Kaiōshin was an unconscious heap of limbs a few feet away from where he had been — there was a trench in the ground which served to measure how far the blast had carried him.

"Kaiōshin, no!" Kibito cried. He lurched forward, despite his own injuries, to go to his master's aid. "You of all people must not be allowed to die!"

Trunks reacted a moment too slow. Dābura appeared and instantaneously released a second energy wave. Kibito had no chance to defend himself and, when the blast cleared, none of him remained.

"KIBITO!" Trunks roared.

Babidi laughed again, high and cold. "Serves you right for trying to interfere with my plans! And now" — he approached the fallen Kaiōshin — "I believe I promised you a mercy-killing, Kaiōshin! It'd be a pity if I didn't follow through! I'm nothing if I don't keep my word!"

The wizard raised a reptilian hand and silently cast his spell. The Kaiōshin rose into the air like a rag doll and, with a snap of his long, skeletal fingers, Babidi broke his neck.

As the life left the Kaiōshin's body, Trunks saw a dreadful vision. He saw cities ruined; he saw the streets filled with the bodies of the dead, children and their parents among them; he saw Gohan lying motionless in the rain, his eyes blank and unseeing; and then he saw the faces that had haunted his dreams for so long, even after he had liberated his world — two faces, a young black-haired boy and a young blonde-haired girl.

Then the faces morphed into Babidi and Dābura's and a rage that had laid dormant for ten long years uncoiled and rose to the surface like an angry dragon.

"I — I won't let… — I won't let it happen again…!" Trunks seethed. His hair stiffened and he felt his power swell. "I ABSOLUTELY WON'T ALLOW IT TO HAPPEN AGAIN!"

Power escaped from Trunks like the detonation of a bomb. The earth beneath his feet crumbled and shook; lightning freely danced around his body, mingling with the golden aura that flared around him like a wildfire. His muscle mass increased momentarily, but shrunk down a second later as his body grew accustomed to the sudden flood of power. When the young half-Saiyan looked up again, he had ascended.

"This world is finally at peace," Trunks snarled. "I won't allow that hard-earned peace to be shattered by the likes of you!"

Trunks was a blur, and this time it was Dābura who couldn't react in time. He struck the demon so hard, that he was nearly sent sailing into Babidi himself. The tiny wizard seemed to dance for a moment before diving out of the way.

"What just happened?!" Babidi shrieked. "How did he get so strong all of a sudden?!"

"His power must be stimulated by rage," Dābura deduced. "But it is of no concern. Such a menial boost will not save him from m—"

Trunks' boot-clad foot struck Dābura hard in the abdomen, and this time he _did_ slam into Babidi. The evil duo was sent hurdling backwards, but Dābura recovered quickly, and magically summoned a spear into his right hand. The demon gritted his teeth angrily as he hurled it towards the young Super Saiyan, but Trunks was unfazed. He knocked the spear aside, shattering it in the process, causing Dābura to growl in frustration.

"Why you insolent little rodent!" the demon lord snarled. "This'll finish you!"

Dābura spat and Trunks could no longer hide his own malicious smirk. He had been waiting for that. Pulling his arm back, he punched the air, unleashing a tremendous shockwave which sent the spit right back at Dābura. The wad of saliva struck Dābura's cheek — incidentally, some of it also trickled onto Babidi, who was cowering behind his demonic minion. Both looked horrified as the transformation into stone set in.

"I see," Trunks said menacingly. "So you can fall victim to your own move. That's inconvenient — for _you_." — he bore his teeth angrily and thrust his palms out. "This nightmare was over before it even began! I won't let you sully the peace we've worked so hard for! DIE!"

A blinding blast of energy erupted and screamed through the distance between Trunks and his petrified enemies. Neither Dābura nor Babidi were able to scream as the blast consumed them their stone forms shattering and crumbling away until they were naught but dust.

As the smoke cleared, and with his enemy beaten, Trunks reverted. He couldn't celebrate, though. Not when he had still failed. Kibito's body had been reduced to dust, much like Babidi and Dābura, but the Kaiōshin's remained. Trunks gazed mournfully at it from a distance — another life lost for the sake of lasting peace on Earth.

"We did it, Lord Kaiōshin," Trunks said to no one. "We've kept the peace of this world."

—

But the peace wasn't kept. It never had been. It never would be. A specter of death watched the end of the battle from afar. Clothed in black, save for its white boots and glistening jade earring, the specter watched with particular interest as the Kaiōshin met his end.

"Splendid," an all-too familiar voice spoke to no one in particular. "I've found a timeline where the meddlesome Hakaishin Beerus no longer exists. Now, at long last, to begin…"

—

Ten years later, Trunks too realized that the peace wasn't kept as he ran through the streets towards the source of the disturbance. Black smoke rose up in the distance, and he could hear the frantic screams of the city's citizens as they fled the scene. As he drew closer, Trunks could see a form floating in the air above the destruction and he gritted his teeth. Even now, ten years later, the cities were being rebuilt. He wouldn't allow some hot-shot to steal away the reconstruction efforts.

He _wouldn't_.

When he arrived, a small, brave crowd had assembled beneath the floating figure — the figure Trunks could only barely make out with all the smoke around. And then the Thing-Within-The-Smoke spoke:

"At last," said a voice that sent chills up Trunks' spine. It was familiar. Eerily familiar. "This world's savior has come. With you out of my way, no one will exist to stop my ambition. And" — a gust of wind blew through the streets, pushing back the dark curtain of smoke and revealing a face that caused Trunks' stomach to fall into a bottomless pit — "I'll annihilate the Earthlings for the sake of justice!"

Trunks' breath was coming in short, labored gasps.

The figure in black was exuding foul _ki_ , but its face and voice were that of an old friend.

Recollection came in flashes behind Trunks' eyes. A man in funky alien clothing climbing out of a pod and cluelessly staring up his friends who had gathered to welcome him. A man standing resolute before a completed Cell, who first demonstrated the full power of a Super Saiyan. A man who selflessly gave his life to save his friends and prevent the world's destruction. A man who refused a wish to return him to life so that the world's peace could remain.

Such a man could never have done this.

Such a man would never _want_ to do this.

"You…" Trunks managed between labored breaths. "Who the hell are you?!"

The familiar face, dressed in black, gave him a wicked grin. "You of all people should know, Saiyan. I" — Trunks' breath hitched — "am Son Gokū."

* * *

 **A/N:** _So this is the first time I've put a project entirely written by someone else up onto my account. JacobKingston10 is a good friend of mine, and wanted to make this mini-series tie-in to my Erased Chronicles story — set in the future, well after the current arc (the Majin Bū arc) has ended, and set in Trunks' timeline, during the invasion of a mysterious entity calling himself Son Gokū. This story will more or less cover established material from the latest arc in Super, while adding Jacob's own original twists and turns as it leads into a special chapter of my Erased Chronicles story, "Chapter Black". I hope you all enjoy the ride Jacob takes you on as you continue to enjoy the Erased Chronicles as well!_


	2. Black Despair

**Black Despair**

 **Original Concept by: JacobKingston10**  
 **Written by: LastationLover5000**

* * *

"Son...Gokū?" Trunks repeated the words, his brain refusing to process the information like it should. He looked around at the destroyed city — buildings collapsed into  
rubble, citizens, women, men, young and old alike, lay scattered. Some dead, the lucky were wounded, and the luckiest were the ones who were fleeing the scene in terror. Water mains had been shattered, and the streets were flooding. "It can't be...this isn't something he would do!"

The man claiming to be Gokū smirked, and it was an expression so foreign on Gokū's face that Trunks' blood ran cold. "You believe only what you want to believe, Trunks; ignoring what you see right in front of you. That's simply another weakness of humans. But tell me this — if I'm not Son Gokū, then how can I know your name?"

Undeniable truth the stabbed Trunks and forced back any retort; the man who bore Gokū's face knew clearly who he was, and his voice was the exact as well, even if the hybrid could pick up distinct subtle differences in the way he spoke. Yet he was here, bearing Son Gokū's name and voice, and his actions had been very real. But if he knew Trunks' name...then he couldn't be the Gokū of _this_ world. "But then...why!?" Trunks shouted up at the black-clad form of Gokū desperately. "We've worked so hard to rebuild what we lost...why would you destroy it!? And how... you died a long time ago — in this world, and another! — how could you even come back!?"

"All intelligent questions, Trunks," replied Gokū. "You are right that I am not from this world, but how I got _here_ and where I'm _from_ aren't things I'll simply tell to a mere human. And why would I, Son Gokū, do something like this?" He gestured theatrically around to the destroyed city. "This is merely a single step in my greater battle to protect peace!"

"What sort of peace is this!?" howled the half-Saiyan angrily. "We _had_ peace! I finally defeated the Androids, Babidi, and Dābura! With the sacrifice of so many, I've worked hard to uphold this peace! What you've just done is the furthest thing from it!"

The Demon-With-Gokū's-Face chuckled mirthlessly. "It's amusing, Trunks. How to those with opposing ideals, the other is an antagonist." He flexed his fingers, extending a hand towards Trunks. "However, I see things from far higher than you." A yellow-green orb formed in front of his palm, and within the _ki_ sphere was a black core. "But I think I've talked to you far too much, Trunks." Moving his arm in a wide-sweeping arc, releasing a quintet of these spheres towards Trunks.

Trunks may have not had a real battle in over a decade, but he had been training for these ten years; the half-Saiyan leapt over the array of spheres. They collided with the cracked and flooded ground, exploding in a vibrant flash. But Trunks wasn't focused on the city anymore; talking to Gokū had given nearly everyone time to escape, and the real enemy was in the air.

Closing in, Trunks spun in the air, slamming his right leg down towards Gokū's skull. The demented Saiyan let out a grin, raising a black-clothed arm to block the blow. Now that he was close in, Trunks noticed something odd about Gokū's attire; it wasn't the black _gi_ , though that had caught his attention when he first arrived. There was a green earring dangling from Gokū's ear, like the ones that Lord Kaiōshin, Kibito, and even he had worn.

The distraction, however, cost Trunks, and Gokū slammed a fist into his chest. The blow was powerful, and Trunks was flung with force into the nearest ruined building. He crashed into it, hard, and the wall gave way. Trunks found himself sprawled out onto a office, the desk and computer in ruins. Groaning, he shoved the rubble off himself, standing back onto his feet.

"Are you losing your focus already?" jabbed Gokū. "Your father would be disappointed to see you that sloppy, Trunks. And I thought Gohan had trained you better than that."

A vein throbbed in Trunks' forehead at the casual mocking of his estranged father and deceased master. If this Gokū was good at anything, it was hitting Trunks where it hurt; emotionally and physically. Dust falling from his lavender tresses, a white aura erupted around him. He had been curious about the earring, but that was thrown out the window. Gohan was his mentor, and his father was, in his own unique way, an inspiration. And Trunks couldn't stand for them to be insulted.

"Haaaaaaah!" Immersed in a vibrant white _ki_ , Trunks launched himself from the office building, destroying more of it in the process, and rushed at Gokū. His fist struck true this time, colliding firmly with the smug face of this black-clad Gokū. Face pulsating with anger, Trunks pushed his free fist into Gokū's stomach, and slammed a knee into his torso. Repeatedly, the half-Saiyan unleashed blow after blow against this new enemy, and he unleashed a powerful Double Axe Handle, sending Gokū careening downward.

Gokū crashed into the street, creating a large crater that made their battlefield only more of a wasteland. Rising to his feet, he dusted himself off, looking up towards Trunks. With simple grin, he laughed, clearly amused. "Anger? Is that the source of your strength? How fitting — an ugly method for such ugly creations."

"You keep saying things like that!" Trunks snapped. "'Justice'. 'Humans'. 'Saiyans'. 'Ugly creations'. You come here spouting your twisted ideas of justice; I don't care if you call yourself Gokū, I will kill you to protect this peace! I won't let you commit any more wrongs than you already have!"

"And yet that is where you've got the misconception, Trunks," replied the Gokū look-alike. "Humans decide for themselves what is right or wrong, but your human preconceptions don't apply to someone of my station. I can do no wrong."

"What kind of nonsense are you spouting now?" Trunks spat incredulously.

"That isn't something that a mere human like yourself should concern yourself with," replied Gokū with a casual air.

"Don't give me that shit!" Trunks shot back, and dashed downward towards the black enemy. He remembered suddenly that he had a sword at his back, and gripped the hilt of his trusted weapon with his primary hand. It wasn't the original sword he had — that one had been a gift from Gohan, hand-crafted by his teacher — but a new blade. He'd had to replace it when it was broken by No. 18 in the past. Inwardly, he still wished that he had the Z-Sword, but that was ancient history; Dābura had broken it and there was no way of mending that holy blade.

He drew the sword with an audible metallic noise, and as he descended on Gokū, swung the blade down. His strength behind the swing was tremendous, but Gokū sidestepped it easily, surprising Trunks.

 _He's...getting faster!?_ The half-Saiyan thought, a slight panicked edge to his mental voice. Trying to keep his edge, Trunks spun on his heel, swinging the blade in a wide arc. Gokū, however, took a step back, avoiding a clean cut from Trunks' blade, and he grinned, even laughing now. With an upward swing, the _de facto_ Saiyan prince missed his target again by mere centimetres. _Am I just that close...or he is taunting me by staying within my range!?_

It was this bit of self-doubt that decided everything. Gokū flickered inward; it wasn't teleportation, simply speed that Trunks couldn't perceive. A powerful elbow strike to his abdomen stunned him; with a palm strike, Gokū disarmed Trunks, sending his blade skittering off to the side. Trunks eyes widened in pain, just as a powerful rumbling could be heard in the skies overhead.

Gokū delivered a powerful kick to Trunks' jaw, white boot connecting with the young man's skin. Extending a palm, Gokū generated a large orb of _ki_ , the same yellow-green hue with black core, but much larger this time. The blast exploded at point blank range, sending ripples of pain throughout Trunks' body. The force of the blast sent him careening backwards through the streets, and into a nearby alley, where he crashed into garbage and other waste that had survived the destruction of the city.

His body felt wet, and the sound of rain filled his ears. That rumbling must have been an incoming storm, and fresh rainwater melded with the water from the water main, flooding the streets further. Trunks was slumped against the garbage, his body numb from the pain, and Gokū approached him silhouetted by a vivid flash of lightning and a powerful thunderclap.

Gokū's face still wore an expression of arrogant amusement, and he contemplated the broken form of Trunks for a moment. "It looks like you're in luck. You put up a good fight after all — I haven't had to work this body like this in a long time. So I think I'll let you live today, Trunks. Get stronger while I'm giving you this chance, because the next time we meet—" Lightning flashed in the sky again, and thunder roared; Gokū's face was illuminated again by the electricity in the sky, but his voice carried well over the thunderclap.

"I _will_ kill you."

Turning away from Trunks, Gokū laughed again, and immersed himself in a flaming black aura. He took off from the spot, leaving Trunks where he lay. The man remained conscious for only a moment longer, and then blackness overtook his vision.

* * *

Warmth.

He had felt so cold, but now warmth was filling his senses. It took Trunks another moment to register that his back was no longer against the pliant trashbag, but a firm mattress. His eyes were closed, but he could detect familiar scents all around him. And this led him to one conclusion before he even opened his eyes.

 _I didn't...die._

It was some small consolation. He might not have died, but he wasn't able to save the people who had died in that attack on the Eastern Capital. He had lived, at the cost of so many other lives — _again_. It was the Androids all over again. Not moving from the bed, he sighed, and it was then the young man noticed that there was the slightest bit of extra weight on the bed.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted by incredibly bright lights. Squinting, the half-Saiyan tried to sit up, wincing in pain as his body reminded him that he was indeed still recovering from that quick and crushing defeat. Several new pieces of information were flooding to him; his torso had bandages wrapped around it, he could at least move, and he was not alone in the room.

He'd expected to see his mother, Bulma, the most intelligent woman in the world. She was a talented inventor, and after Trunks had settled the debacle with the Androids, became president of Capsule Corporation — or at least what was left of it, in the wake of years of destruction. Yet, sleeping in a chair with her head on the mattress was an entirely unfamiliar woman. Trunks didn't recognize her, but she seemed to be about his age with fair skin, and long black hair. She was beautiful, and her sleeping face had a kind of peaceful quality that made him sad — remembering that black Gokū, he knew that simple joys like this were in danger once again.

He wondered if he should wake her, or if it would be more polite to simply let the woman sleep. Clearing his throat, she gave no reaction. Blinking, Trunks prodded her shoulder gently, and the young woman began to stir. Her eyes opened slowly — onyx as her hair but they had shimmered in a way that most eyes couldn't — and she looked around in confusion, as if she was trying to remember how she'd gotten here. Then the girl's eyes fell on Trunks, and his shirtless bandaged form, a small pink blush crept onto her face as she sprung from her chair.

"O-Oh! I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I...sorry!" She bowed quickly, and made a rush for the door to the left, fleeing the scene in embarrassment and leaving behind a very bewildered Trunks who hadn't a chance to say a single thing.

"What...did I do?"

* * *

Trunks had gotten out of bed, slipping a dark green sweater over his bandages, and making his way towards the living room. Bulma had rebuilt a lot in the past ten years, both inside and outside their home. The living space had been completely restructured, and they finally had comfortable accommodations. The lavender-haired genius woman was sitting on a forest green sofa, looking at the television.

Sitting in a chair a ways off from his mother was the young woman was before. Her hands rested in her lap, and she looked nervous simply to be in the house.

"Um...hey," Trunks said, speaking to both of them directly. His mother was the first to answer, turning to look at her son, a stern expression on her face.

"Nice to see you up and about, honey," said the single mother. "How are your wounds?"

"I'd love to say fine, but my body still hurts," replied Trunks, casting an eye towards the television set. It was the news broadcast, and on the screen he could see the form of the black-clad Gokū hovering above the Eastern Capital. In a wave of purple _ki_ , most of the city went up in a large explosion.

"Damn him...that...Gokū Black..." Bulma muttered to herself, having turned back to the television set with an expression that was a mixture of anger and pain.

"I'm sorry, who?" Trunks blinked rapidly, confused.

"Gokū Black," replied Bulma simply. "Or just Black. It's what I've decided to call him. No matter _what_ he says, he isn't Gokū. The Gokū I knew wouldn't have done anything like this."

"Gokū...Black..." Trunks repeated. The name matched. It fit his appearance, and it gave them something different to call him — something to separate that man from the hero that Trunks knew from the past, and from his mother's long-time friend. He noticed that the black-haired woman was staring intently at the screen as well, and remembered he still did not know who she was.

"Mom, while we're talking about names..." He inclined his head pointedly at the woman sitting in the plush recliner chair.

"Oh, I suppose introductions are sort of in order," shrugged Bulma, who was smirking slightly. She wasn't getting so old that she couldn't be amused by the antics of the younger generation — the young woman had just come out of the hospital wing only a few minutes before, blushing furiously. She didn't know _what_ Trunks had done, but had settled for laughing herself silly for another two minutes afterwards. "This is Mai. Mai, this is Trunks. She's the one who saved your life after that little...scuffle...you had with Black in the Eastern Capital."

On television screen now, Trunks was visible.

"O-Oh!" Trunks' eyes widened. So she was the reason why he hadn't simply died there on the ground. "T-Thank you, Mai!" It was his turn to give a bow of gratitude, but the black-haired woman shook her head.

"It was the least I could do," she replied. "You didn't have to...go that far when you fought him. I'm not used to seeing heroes like that."

"She's going to be living here now," added Bulma. "According to her, she was in the Eastern Capital, living there with her friends, when Black attacked. She was one of the lucky ones — her friends didn't make it."

"I'm...sorry to hear that," said Trunks. He was unable to offer any words of comfort beyond that. He knew well what it was like to lose someone close to you, but everyone's situations are different, and thus he kept his mouth shut after that lame offering. Something triggered in the back of his head, however, and he was spurred on to ask his mother another question. "What about the injured!? Gokū...no, Black, didn't kill everyone! I know there were survivors."

"Calm down, sweetie," said Bulma soothingly. "Mai's arrival saved more people than just you; I was able to make it to the Eastern Capital in time, and we retrieved many of the wounded before it was too late. They're in the Western Capital Regional Hospital right now."

Trunks breathed a sigh of relief. Lives had been saved. It was another small consolation to his survival in that battle; his actions, no matter how small, hadn't been pointless. He tried to smile, but it came off as weak.

"Don't go down that road again, son," Bulma warned. "I can already tell — we're going to have to deal with a whole new patch of trouble, and you're about to shoulder that entire burden yourself, aren't you?"

Trunks was silent.

" _Aren't you_?" His mother pressed.

"Yes, but—"

"No buts," replied Bulma, getting up and jabbing a finger into her son's torso. He winced, and she smiled triumphantly. "If _that_ hurt you, then you're in no shape to do anything. So why don't you sit down and get some rest. We don't even know where Black went after he left you for dead, so you can't do anything blindly. Meaning..."

"I have to wait until he attacks again," replied Trunks bitterly.

"Not the words I would have chosen, but yeah."

Sighing, Trunks collapsed into the recliner adjacent Mai's. He hated this; it was truly the Androids all over again. Having to sit around and do nothing, waiting for Black to claim more victims. At least with the Androids, he'd had an excuse — he couldn't sense their _ki_ , so he couldn't track them. He didn't have that same excuse with Black. But his mother was right about one thing — Black had done a number on his body, and if he went to fight him now, he would be killed.

"That's the way," Bulma pumped her fist into the air. "Now, I'll go make you two something to eat, so just relax. Try and watch anything _but the news_." She stressed the last bit, knowing how reckless Trunks could be if he heard something that bothered him. _So similar to Vegeta..._

Leaning back in the recliner, Trunks closed his eyes. Vivid images flashed within the darkness. A face, so similar to Gokū's, but sinister in ways that Gokū could never be. A glinting green earring. The explosion of the Eastern Capital.

" _I think I'll let you live today, Trunks. Get stronger while I'm giving you this chance, because the next time we meet, I_ will _kill you._ "

Laughter, high and cold, echoed in his head. Trunks' eyes snapped open, and the half-Saiyan was gasping, having broken into a cold sweat. Not since he was a child had he been defeated so completely. Not since the Androids. Part of him wished Gohan were here; it was natural, to wish that a deceased loved one was still with you, but this was different.

The way Black handled Trunks made the man feel like a child again, and he was always able to turn to Gohan back when he was an up-and-coming fighter.

But he was on his own now.

"Are you alright?" A soft female voice caught his attention. Looking to his left, he saw the beautiful black haired girl — Mai — whose wide eyes were looking at him with worry and concern. She held a towel in her hand, offering it to him.

Trunks took the towel gratefully, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Calming down, he looked at her and said — as much to himself as it was in answer to her — that he was indeed alright. Most would find that sort of question to be inane, but he didn't; during the time of the Androids, the survivors had been torn between those whose empathy came out naturally, and those who simply hardened their hearts.

Trunks had come to appreciate people with that former quality, and it appeared Mai was one of them. He set down the towel and smiled. "I really am alright; I just have a lot on my mind."

Mai looked at him seriously, trying to size him up and get the measure of him. With a small sigh, she smiled herself. "You're a tough guy, aren't you? I don't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but I read a book or two about it; you don't need to hide everything under that mask of self-confidence. I'm sure anyone would be a bit battered after what just happened."

"I...well..." Trunks was left at a loss. He didn't want to admit she was right, but it was more how dangerously close to his father that profile sounded for his comfort. He let out a smile of his own. "You're right," he admitted, against his better judgment. "I'm just...hung up on memories from the past. I don't usually get like this, not in the past ten years anyway — and I really shouldn't now, at least not with a guest in the house."

"I'm not much for therapy, but I'm certainly someone you can talk to," Mai replied. She remembered the Androids fairly clearly. It was a very long story, but she'd grown up a child during their siege on Earth — what many could call a miracle survivor during that time — and finding people to trust had been hard. She'd had her two friends back then, but Black's attack on the Eastern Capital had killed them. "It still feels like the Androids were yesterday...and this 'Black' fellow is drudging up bad memories."

"Tell me about it," replied Trunks with an exasperated sigh. "I've been trying to clear my head after all of this, but Black keeps coming back. I fought so hard for peace...but this will throw the entire world into chaos again."

" _You_ were the one fighting?" Mai voiced her amazement.

And so, Trunks launched into an explanation about exactly what he _was_ and how he was able to fight against the Androids. It was a long-winded tale, and it kept Trunks speaking for the better part of an hour. He didn't know why he was telling Mai all of this — about Gohan, about _ki_ , about the Saiyans, and everything the Time Machine his mother had created let him experience in the past — but she was simply easy to talk to. Mai had an innocent quality that Trunks found welcoming, and it had him speaking to her casually for the better part of the hour.

Bulma peeked in every now and again, and a broad, sly smile. It had been quite a long time since she'd ever seen Trunks speak this much with someone that wasn't herself. Speak so _openly_ with someone that wasn't herself. Not since Gohan. Trunks had never grown up with friends — the Androids made that impossible, and Gohan was the closest thing he'd had to a confidant.

Mai made for a decent audience. She showed genuine interest, and gasped at proper intervals. Her expression grew truly somber when Trunks reminisced about Gohan's death. It was a powerful memory, and his worst nightmare — but that moment was what kept him driven, and he had grown well past the point of being unable to talk about it. She was skeptical of the Time Machine at first, but after seeing Black blow up an entire city, on top of the numerous atrocities committed by the Androids, she was willing to believe anything.

By the end of the next half hour, Trunks had exhausted more than half his story, and his mother came into the living room.

"I'm glad you two are hitting it off, but the food's ready! Why don't we get a bite to eat, hm?"

The chatting duo looked up at Bulma, jolted into remembering that she was still in the building.

"Y-Yeah," agreed Trunks, getting out of the recliner and making a stretch.

"Trunks, I wouldn't mind hearing some more about all of this," suggested Mai. "Later?"

"Sure!" Trunks nodded, smiling, and the two followed Bulma into the kitchen.

* * *

It had been a month since Trunks had engaged Black for the first time, and his wounds had recovered nicely. Perks of Saiyan biology, a quicker recovery time than Earthlings. The victims of Black's first attack on the Eastern Capital were still recovering in the Western Capital Regional Hospital; several were even in comas. What remained of the Eastern Capital had been eradicated by Black, but when Trunks had arrived merely two weeks prior, the black-clad Gokū was nowhere to be found.

"It's like he's taunting me!" snarled the half-Saiyan angrily. "Appearing, destroying, and drifting back out of sight! What's he playing at!?"

Despite Mai and Bulma's insistence that Trunks calm down, the half-Saiyan found that he was more worked up than he had been before, and he went outside into the yard to calm down. It was a miracle that his sword had been retrieved when Trunks was rushed out of the Eastern Capital for the first time. Practising kendō was an easy way for the young man to vent frustration, and the two women let him calm himself this way.

The next few days passed uneventfully. In need of food, Mai and Trunks went out to the shopping district, grateful that the Western Capital was still intact. Trunks had offered to either go alone, or carry her while flying, but Mai insisted on coming, eager to help, and yet refused to be carried with an embarrassed flush. So, Trunks took one of the Capsule Cars that Bulma still kept, and drove through the newly refurbished streets with Mai in the passenger's seat.

Fiddling with the radio as he made his way to the local supermarket, Trunks turned the dial, passing up a few music stations — it appeared that country music was attempting to make a resurgence in the ten years since the Androids' defeat — and settled for a news channel.

There wasn't anything of note for the first trip to the store, and Trunks and Mai were able to purchase the necessary rations without much incident. It was only on the return trip did something pique Trunks' interest.

" _This just in! The black-clothed figure who attacked the Eastern Capital has been spotted directly over the Southern Capital! This is an urgent message to all inhabitants! Flee! Immediately!_ "

Trunks hit the brake on the car so hard that several bags flew forward; asparagus, carrots, and plastic-wrapped meat sprawled across the center divider, and landed close to the windshield. Trunks' hands were trembling against the wheel. _The Southern Capital_. He could make it; if he went now, he could make it. He could save the people there.

Mai looked at him, her dark eyes boring deep into his blue ones. "You're about to go there, aren't you?"

"I have to..." replied Trunks. "I can't...I can't just go home and pretend I didn't hear any of this." With a thin smile, he added, "Apologize to Mom, please Mai?"

"...You're going to come back," she said firmly. "I won't have to do that. Be safe, Trunks."

With this reassurance, Trunks stepped out of the car, and Mai slid over into the driver's side. A white aura immersed his body, and he rocketed off into the sky towards the Southern Capital. At top speed, he could make it in five minutes.

 _Please!_ He found himself praying desperately to gods that could no longer hear him. _Let me make it in time!_

* * *

 **A/N:** _So, where_ has _this story been for the past six months? Um...places. I've been busy writing, and JacobKingston has been busy with just life in general. So I took it upon myself to keep this story going. I was going to delete it, but its amazing what being bored at work inspires you to do. So I decided I would continue to write it. It won't be that long of a story; after all, it is meant to tie into my_ Erased Chronicles _, and as such, I can't let it take too much attention away from the main spectacle. But here it is; the second chapter after six months. I had a lot of fun writing Black, and had a lot of fun writing Trunks and Mai as well. Changing characters is something that I find amazing; I love Gohan and Erasa but it is a breath of fresh air to write something new, anything new (and yes, I know that as of this writing, I do indeed still have other stories in the works, but only this one, the_ Erased Chronicles _, and_ Heart of Adventurers _have anything resembling definitive direction._

So I hope you all enjoyed this chapter of

The Future is Black _and I shall see you soon. While Jacob is a bit too busy to write, he isn't above reading, and serves as my editor for what was originally his project. See you soon!_


	3. Black

**Black**

 **Original Concept by: JacobKingston10**

 **Written by: LastationLover5000**

* * *

At full-speed, Trunks was rushing over the surface of the planet. He'd departed from the Western Capital only moments ago, when news over the car radio had told him that Black had been spotted over the Southern Capital. He couldn't let another tragedy like the destruction of the Eastern Capital happen again — so here he was, racing against time to save people who might already be dead. It was like dealing with the Androids all over again.

Closing in on the Southern Capital, Trunks could feel multiple _ki_ signatures dropping. This caught his attention immediately.

 _When he attacked the Eastern Capital, he blew the city up instantly_ , the half-Saiyan thought to himself. _What's he playing at now?!_ Trunks approached the city at a rapid pace, and vibrant explosions caught him sapphire-eyes. He could see the city, and it was peppered with detonations from various points. Black himself was positions above the city, raining _ki_ spheres with dark cores down onto the city.

"Black!" Trunks roared, putting all his speed into his next move, rushing towards the dark-clothed man's location and slamming his fist forward. The Son-Gokū-Look-Alike had time to only glance towards Trunks, before a powerful fist collided with his face. Black felt his body rock, and he was forced backwards by the strength behind the blow. Trunks came to a halt, glaring at Black with obvious hatred.

"Hm?" Black looked at him with amusement. "So it's you again, Trunks. And what was that you called me?"

"I refuse to call you "Gokū"," spat Trunks, gritting his teeth. "You're the furthest thing removed from that man, Black!"

Black snickered at first, and then a laugh escaped his throat, his face breaking into a grin. "Black! Splendid, Trunks, absolutely splendid! A fitting moniker for someone such as myself, who has absorbed the very essence of the sin of humanity into his being, and has taken upon the burden of those far higher than you can even dream!" His laughter diminishing into chuckles once more, his grin widened. "You never cease to amuse me, Trunks."

"I'm not here for your amusement, Black!" snarled the half-Saiyan, gripping the hilt of his blade, a brilliant white flame igniting around his body. "I'm here to violently kill you!"

Black barked with laughter, before spreading his arms wide in welcoming. "Then come kill me, last of the Saiyans!"

Clenching his sword, _ki_ built up in the centre of Trunks' back, and his lavender tresses rose, glimmering a vibrant gold. His eyes flashed from their sapphire hue to the emerald of the Super Saiyan. Without finesse, only rage, the half-Saiyan rushed Black, unsheathing his blade. Mightily, he swung the sword down, but Black easily side-stepped it. With a thrust, he performed a quick palm strike, and hit Trunks square in the back.

The half-Saiyan was sent careening down by the sheer force the blow. The citizens were scattering, and try as he might, Trunks couldn't steady himself. He collided with the ground, a crater exploding on his impact. Forcing himself up from the rubble, Trunks pushed asphalt aside, coughing through the dust. "What are you all doing?!" He shouted to a crowd of onlookers who hadn't bothered to run. "Get out of here!"

"T-Trunks, what's going on?!" One of them shouted.

"Don't ask questions! Run! Now!" As Trunks was shouting, he sensed a disturbance. Looking upwards, he saw that Black had released a veritable rain of kikōha towards him. Greenish-yellow spheres of _ki_ with pitch black cores rained down. Gripping his sword, the Saiyan leapt into the air, and sliced as many of the kikōha apart as he could — it wasn't perfect, however, and several exploded behind him. The result was a cacophony of screams as citizens were incinerated by _ki_ , and the city was further torn apart by explosions.

"Black!" Trunks roared. "What's your game?! You're toying with these people! I know you could have ended this before I even got here! Stop messing around and fight me seriously, I'm your opponent!"

"Please," replied Black smoothly. "If this were a game, I'd be having fun. This is simply your punishment, Trunks. You said you were going to protect them, weren't you? These Humans? I haven't had resistance of your sort in quite some time; so I think we'll _take_ our time." With a swipe of his hand, he released several dozen more spheres. Far more than Trunks could feasibly counter.

"Damn it!" Trunks raised his hands over his head, forming a sphere of _ki_. It was yellow and crackling, with a white hot center. "MASENKŌ!" Thrusting his palms forward, the sphere exploded into a kikōha beam that ripped through as many of the spheres as Trunks' might could muster. Explosions lit the sky, creating powerful gale-force winds sent rubble careening. The spheres that Trunks missed, however, collided into the city below, causing only further chaos.

"For someone who wants to protect these unworthy creatures, you're certainly doing a splendid job of failure," continued Black. "I know how you fought to save the Earth from the Androids, Trunks! I was there! You came back to save my life, didn't you? That Son Gokū the world needed! You told me everything!" He gestured to the destroyed and smoking city, where bodies lied either dismembered or charred. "You were supposed to be their saviour, Trunks! And you're letting them down again!"

Trunks jerked involuntarily, unable to deny that Black was correct, at least in that last statement. However, the fact that he displayed knowledge he could only have if he was Gokū left Trunks feeling uneasy — even sick from the idea. Gokū was this world's undisputed hero; the one who had protected Earth since he was a child. When he had died, Gohan had taken his place, and staked his life on protecting their precious planet.

"And...now...I'm the one following in their footsteps! To insult Gokū's memory is to insult Gohan's memory!" His aura flared, a golden flame that shot into the air, sending waves of _ki_ forth, displacing solid rubble as well as bodies. "I'm the one who has inherited their will! And I will follow through until the end; those who don't respect the peace we've fought so hard to preserve...will be cut down by me!"

He hurled himself through the air, and his aura began to dissipate, condensing entirely around his sword. The silver blade glowed with the blinding power of a Super Saiyan, and Trunks steadied his grip. Closing in on Black, he swung his sword in a powerful arc. The blade rung through the air, strengthened as it was by Trunks' _ki_.

"Oho!" Black seemed genuinely impressed, and for a moment, an expression eerily reminiscent of Gokū crossed his face; the approval of this show of strength, and at the fact that he might now be facing someone worth his time. Before the blade could make contact, however, Black side-stepped with the arc of the swing, and for a moment, Trunks almost thought it had made contact, but the lack of feeling told him better. Trunks simply swung the blade again, and Black flattened his palm, slamming it into the flat side of the blade; the strike completely diverted Trunks' force, throwing him off balance, and he stumbled through the air.

Black grabbed him by the jacket, throwing him back towards the Earth. Before Trunks could crash, Black moved forward at blinding speed, appearing where Trunks was going to be. With a forward thrust, he spun his arm, releasing a spiraling punch that rocked Trunks' body with immense force. The ground exploded beneath them, and Trunks' flight changed directions at the half-Saiyan rocketed away from Black like a cannon ball.

"Had you not made such a simple mistake, I would have lauded you as a genius for a move like that," said Black, hearing the satisfying sound of Trunks' collision. He walked forward, speaking as he moved. He knew Trunks wouldn't stay down for long. And their fun was only just beginning. "Condensing such a powerful _ki_ into that sword would certainly have made it a force to be reckoned with, but you let anger guide your strokes." He snickered, and continued. "An ugly method, and merely another fault of you humans. You fancy yourself the hero, don't you? A sword dulled by that kind of anger won't ever reach me, Trunks."

The remains of an apartment complex had collapsed when Trunks had been flung into it, and it had taken the half-Saiyan longer to regain his composure than normal. Rubble was pushed aside, crumbling when it hit the ground. The half-Saiyan's face was set, his teeth grit. The sword he clutched was still brimming with aura. "You said anger was unbecoming of a hero. That's right... I don't care about being a hero. I'll adopt even the mantle of a villain if it means killing you!"

He rocketed forward, the ground exploding as he charged down a smiling Black. The sword was pointed forward, and the half-Saiyan aimed to gore the duplicate Gokū on the edge.

With surprising speed, Black swung his leg towards the blade; the white boot collided with the flat side, and it was wrenched from Trunks' grip. The weapon was sent flying, and it landed with a clatter some ways away from Trunks. The Super Saiyan was stunned, but staring blankly would cost him dearly. Spinning on his heel, Black slammed his other leg into Trunks' side. The half-Saiyan spit up blood, and staggered back. Black simply closed in, placing a palm to the ground; with this balance, he thrust a foot forward, kicking Trunks in the chin and launching the half-Saiyan into the air.

Floating high above the now ruined Eastern Capital, Trunks' blonde tresses had reverted to their normal lavender hue. He was in pain, and exhausted, but not unconscious yet. And he could feel a presence behind him, floating just beneath his body, like the shadow of a floating leaf.

"I told you, Trunks; that dulled blade would never reach me."

Swinging his right leg towards the floating Saiyan, Black landed a crushing kick, causing Trunks to gasp in pain. Trunks was forced beneath Black from the force of the blow, and Black proceeded to spin, landing another solid kick on Trunks. The blows were repeated, each strike becoming stronger and more crushing, as the duo descended towards the Earth for one of several times. Black swung his leg down a final time, his heel colliding with Trunks' chest and slamming him directly into the asphalt.

Trunks' back hit hard, and he coughed up blood. Black took his foot off his body, standing over Trunks with a sadistic smile. "I suppose the fun is over, Trunks," he raised an arm towards Trunks' fallen form, forming a dark-cored _ki_ sphere. "You weren't even a good warm-up in the end. And I told you — the next time we met, I would kill you." The sphere began to increase in size, flickering with strength.

"Farewell, Trunks."

Trunks' eyes suddenly shot open, and the half-Saiyan sat, bolt upright, his index and middle fingers of both hands pointed towards his forward. Slamming his eyes shut, he shouted, "TAIYŌKEN!" There was a blinding flash of vivid brilliant light, illuminating the entire area for a mile straight. Black caught the blast full on, his vision going white, completely blocking out Trunks. He shot off the kikōha regardless, and heard an explosion, but couldn't know if he hit anything.

After several minutes, Black's vision began to return, and the world became blurry in his sight. Rubbing his eyes, Gokū Black wore an expression of utter irritation. "The Taiyōken. Of course... _Tenshinhan's_ technique." Black scanned the area, taking in more and more once his vision had fully returned. He couldn't see Trunks. There was no hint of the half-Saiyan anywhere. With a casual glance to the left, he saw that Trunks' sword was still laying on the floor.

"He was in a such a hurry, he left his sword," Black muttered to himself. Rising into the air, he looked over the remains of the city, raising a hand above his head and forming a vibrant yellow sphere. Releasing the blast below him, it exploded, igniting the city and razing the rest of it to the ground. _How much longer will you continue to run, Trunks? How much longer will you evade justice?_

* * *

 **A/N** : _So, another chapter of the future is Black is up! This one was a fun one to write; I very much enjoy Trunks vs. Black, and this fight was a fun one to write. Explaining the origins behind Black's name, the fact that he accepts it, and Trunks' own failings trying to handle the situation made this a very fun chapter indeed. I hope you all enjoy this, and I assure you, Chapter Black will be coming to the_ Erased Chronicles _soon! And yes, Black_ did _pull off a Barrage of Lions. I'm a Naruto nerd. Bite me._


	4. The Hidden Heart

**The Hidden Heart**  
 **Original Concept by: JacobKingston10**  
 **Written by: LastationLover5000**

* * *

 **The Wilderness, Outside the Western Capital; Earth**

It was early in the morning. A crisp mist had fallen over this forest, but it was an example of nature, pristine and untouched. Deep within this forest, nestled atop a grassy hill, overlooking a sparkling lake, was a log cabin. It was a good two-stories, constructed entirely from wood, with a balcony overlooking the lake itself. It was hidden away within the woodland, but from this spot, one could enjoy the beauty of Earth as it was meant to be.

And this was where Gokū Black had stationed himself. It was a recently procured abode, having been forcibly acquired when its previous tenants had been removed. And say what he could about the humans, he had come to enjoy this little cottage. It wasn't anything like his planet, and he'd never bothered to acquire a home on other worlds — their inhabitants had been eradicated within a day or two — but Black would take his time with Earth.

 _It's an odd feeling_ , Black thought to himself, walking out of the cabin after enjoying a cup of tea. It was an old, ingrained habit, and he hadn't been able to rid himself of it. Fortunately, the humans of Earth seemed to enjoy tea as much as he. _Now that I'm here on Earth, I feel a sort of familiarity._ He cast a look out onto the lake, and took in the sight of its waters which sparkled and reflected the luminescent sun. _Why do I have this feeling of...of homecoming?_ He was wondering if he was taking his time with this planet due to Trunks — and he knew that this was part of it — or the fact that his body _knew_ this world.

With a flourish that would embarrass others, Black discarded the top of his _gi_ , and left it on the railing outside the door. He would take a note to wash his clothes later; these were training garb, after all, and it would not do to damage his clothing. With some satisfaction that this was in fact all that Trunks had managed to damage, the man moved towards the lake, sitting by its shimmering surface. Looking over at _his_ reflection, he saw his body again; the muscled build that had been acquired through many years of training, and the paradoxically thin frame that was due to his own influence. But it was still _his_ body.

 _And with this body, I will take the steps needed to cleanse the Universe_ , he thought to himself, feeling the cooling breeze of the Earth and savouring it. It was proof that this planet was alive, and proof that his actions were justice. As he merely relaxed, and enjoyed this moment to himself — a sort of peace he hadn't had since those days with his teacher — the man heard a rustling noise. Reflexively, he braced himself for a battle, but what he saw made him lower his guard.

A deer had wandered out of the taiga forest, and was making its way timidly towards the lake. His expression and body language instantly relaxed, and a peaceful smile crossed Black's face. "Merely an animal, hm? Come then, join me," he said openly, and the deer — a red deer, a doe specifically — sensed Black's intentions, and it approached him cautiously. When the animal had come up next to the Saiyan, it knelt down for a drink, and Black stroked its back.

It didn't flee, but instead relaxed, and Black felt himself relax as well. _Simple creatures, but it is precisely because they are simple that their existence is pristine. They aren't like the humans — these creatures that live their lives without spoiling the beauty that the gods create_. It was precisely because of these creatures that humans must be brought to justice. _They war, fall, rise, and war again. They take wantonly from their planets, besmirching natural beauty and needlessly killing without a second thought. And I will be the one who corrects this mistake._ As his thoughts turned to aggression, Black's hand instinctively tightened in a vice grip.

There was a horrible _CRACK_ , and the deer fell to the ground.

It was dead.

Black looked at his hand, and then down towards the animal, and let out a sigh. Regret crossed his face, and he let that hand fall limply to his side. A voice lectured him in the back of his head, one that he knew all too well, about the importance of restraint and control.

"So you intend to haunt me forever?" He muttered, almost as if in reply, but stood up, and lifted the body of the animal. He supposed handling the remains were in order, and then mental discipline; how would he illustrate justice to these humans — to Trunks — if he too fell victim to their flaws?

A lingering apology for the death hung in the air, and Black proceeded towards the back of the cabin.

* * *

 **A/N:** _A short chapter for the fourth installment of the Future is Black! This chapter, short as it was, got across exactly what I wanted, and it is JacobKingston10 approved! Enjoy this, and I'll see you all soon!_


	5. Somnus

**Somnus**

 **Original Concept by: JacobKingston10**

 **Written by: LastationLover5000 and Demod20**

 _How long had it been?_

It was an odd train of thought, and not one that the Kaiō of the North gave much thought to. _A clock doesn't ask the world how long it has told the time, nor should a god ask the world how long he had watched over it._ This is what Zamasu thought as he drew his day's training to a close. He broke his stance, legs returning to a standing position, sliding his palms through the air to rest before him.

It wasn't a Kaiō's job to be strong, this much he knew. It was their job to overlook their part of the Universe — in his case, the Northern Galaxies — and survey the progress of the humans. And without too much arrogance, Zamasu knew he did his job well. But at the same time, developing one's skill was something that shouldn't be ignored. He'd had a drive to become stronger for several thousand years now, and the simple fact that his job was passive wouldn't allow for him to put off training.

"One thing never changes; your form is still flawless," came a female voice from his side. Zamasu turned to see a woman sitting easily on the grass of his small planet. It was one of his peers, a beautiful woman by the name of Ansu. She possessed long red hair, worn back in a ponytail, and tied at either side of her face to frame it. Her ears were pointed, and her skin a soft purple hue. Her outfit was identical to Zamasu's, only focusing on greenish yellow hues. Her emblem was emblazoned on the front. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you almost never stopped training."

Zamasu smiled a small smile. "It's nice to see you too, Ansu. Colleagues typically give a warning before dropping in, don't they?"

"Who need warnings?" replied Ansu. "Unexpected arrivals from friends makes life fun, doesn't it? We've lived far too long to worry about those little formalities."

"You would believe that," replied Zamasu, relaxing from his stance. He walked over towards Ansu, and took a seat on the stone well in the middle of his planet. It was only a short ways from his house. The planet he inhabited was by no means a large world; quaint, even. But Zamasu believed that the gods should be humble; excess extravagance was unneeded for those who oversaw the Universe. "But since you've come all this way, how can I be of help?"

"Zamasu, you're too stiff," replied Ansu, running a purple hand through the soft grass blades. "I'm merely coming over to check on how the youngest Kaiō is doing! You know how we all get; you haven't been at this as long as we have, and I want to make sure the pressure of the Northern Galaxies isn't overwhelming you." She inclined her head toward her younger colleague. Zamasu was only her junior by ten thousand years, but it was the fact of the matter that remained; out of the Kaiō that reigned over their Universe, he was the youngest and most idealistic.

"There's no pressure at all," replied Zamasu. "I've been doing this long enough, Ansu, that I don't need guidance. And I've become quite taken with the humans." He waved a hand over the water in the well, and it adjusted. His reflection vanished, and instead it showed the Northern Galaxies. Ansu, on her knees, placed her arms onto the well and rested her chin, peering over into the well.

Peering into the well, the two Kaiō saw the black canvas of their Universe, and dotting it like specks of paint were the lights of planets and stars. Zamasu looked into the well fondly, a parental smile on his face. "I've seen potential in the humans in my galaxies," he continued. Visions of various races swam through the well; newly evolving sapient species forming societies, holding families together. Humans eking out survival in the most difficult of conditions.

Ansu and Zamasu both took in the sight, the former with some interest. It had been perhaps 15,000 years since she'd seen her last race still in the throes of evolution; the species in her galaxies, sentient or not, had all progressed relatively well. The fact that she'd inherited the Southern Galaxies from a previous Kaiō was perhaps a contribution factor. Zamasu's quadrant, the Northern Galaxies, were the most underdeveloped of their Universe, so it made sense she would see such nascent species.

"I appreciate your concern, and the gesture isn't lost on me," said Zamasu, pulling his hands away from the well in the centre of his planet. "But watching the humans of my quadrant is actually a favorite pastime of mine. Their potential for growth is extraordinary, and I can see them becoming something impressive one day."

Ansu let out a huffy sigh, but smiled all the same. "Not only are you too stiff, I think you're a little too idealistic. Though I suppose that's one of your good traits. I've yet to meet a Kaiō as pure-hearted as you." She cast an aside-glance at the well, as if she was peering into the depths of the Northern Galaxies. "Even my predecessor Kaiō had misgivings about the humans. But if you believe you know what's best, then by all means. Just make sure it doesn't come back to bite you."

"I don't believe that's possible," replied Zamasu. "I've seen nothing but a bright future in my galaxies."

With this firm statement from her contemporary, Ansu excused herself. Zamasu resumed his training, holding tight to his confidence in the humans of the whole Universe, rather than simply his Northern Galaxies. Yet ideals ephemeral; personal beliefs which could easily be shattered or changed, depending on how one adjusted their worldview. The strength of ideals came from one's strength of character, and the very person who would test Zamasu's ideals would arrive the next day.

* * *

 **North Kaiō's Planet, The Next Day**

There wasn't a day that passed when Zamasu could not be found training. This was as true as the fact that a planet would revolve around its star. However, the Kaiō had surprisingly interrupted his own regimen today, for a similar reason as to the previous day. He was receiving an unexpected visitor. The person hadn't arrived yet, but Zamasu could feel their _ki_ , and it would not do for a god to be caught unprepared.

So Zamasu waited, and his patience was rewarded when, much to his surprise, a human crashed into his world from the sky. The god blinked in surprise, his grey eyes taking in the strange sight of the man who had collided headfirst into his planet.

"Excuse me...may I help you?" Zamasu inquired politely.

There was a grunting sound, as the man was attempting to force himself to his feet. Without being firmly planted into the ground, Zamasu was able to get a closer look at his uninvited guest, and to his surprise, it was a human who was far more sufficiently evolved than others in his quadrant; the body shape and clothing indicated a society with considerable history behind it. He had pale skin, narrow eyes, and long white hair. His attire was black in colour, and draped over him like robes.

It took him a minute to force himself to his feet; he hadn't been warned about the gravity on the Kaiō's planet, but it was indeed quite something. Forcing himself to stand, it took considerable control to bow before the god and then resume his standing position. "Lord Kaiō, you have my greetings," said the man though it sounded like it was a struggle to speak. "Though I am still alive, I have been granted permission by Enma Daiō to travel the pathway to your world. On my planet, I am known as a hero! I humbly request that you train me, Lord Kaiō!"

Zamasu's face lit up with an expression of curiousity, but anticipation at the possibility. "To train a human...I never though I would be presented with this sort of opportunity. This will be a fantastic chance for me to learn more about the humans I protect...and pass my teachings on into the galaxies I protect. You've made it all the way here, and have managed to stand before me despite the intense gravity on this planet. Very well," he agreed. "I will train you. But what's your name, human?"

"My deepest apologies, Lord Kaiō," said the man. "It was rude to ask for a favour without introducing myself. I am called Utsuro."

"Welcome to my planet, Utsuro," replied Zamasu cordially. "I am Zamasu, the Kaiō of this section of the Universe. I have no qualms about passing my teachings onto you, but I must ask; why do you seek strength? You told me you were called a hero."

"That is correct," replied Utsuro, forcing himself to stand again. "On my home planet, Wano, I am regarded as a hero. But there is much I wish to learn; I seek the strength to uphold my justice, and thus I turned to the gods. For my deeds, I was granted an audience with you, Lord Kaiō."

"I see," replied Zamasu, nodding firmly. "Very well. I will not question your justice; the ideals that one holds close to their heart are something to be treasured. They are what define you, shaping who you are. So take the training I will give you, and use it to carry out your justice. May the planet of Wano flourish. Come."

* * *

Amusing. That's what Zamasu had found this first test was in its most basic context. On the outside, explained without foreknowledge, none could understand the punch line of this joke. But this wasn't a preemptive choice for mockery rather than a comparison made by some Human worlds as quite entertaining; at least from what he saw.

In keeping company, the young emerald skinned Kaiō had a bulbous swine of stout posture but no real hanging fat extending from it. This was _Sentetsu_ , the green-skinned pig whose height on all fours was just below the Shinling's hip. Due to its otherworldly nature of existing in the planes of the Afterlife, this wasn't a normal creature of livestock equivalent to Human worlds. Nay, this was a beast of impeccable velocity and durability, able to race across the beautiful green fields of the suspended planet's surface; leaving Utsuro rushing after him in a heaving panic each time.

Still, the perseverance his alleged pupil was astounding to him. Hours upon hours of near four-legged trampling he made -as if to become closer to the beast in hopes of catching it- but alas, this method proved not truly effective. In between stops, the Kaiō allowed him breaks and gave him some fruit he cultivated on his planet, along with a herbal remedied tea that was surprisingly sweet to the white-haired Human. Telling him to resume once he's finished, he didn't make idle talk to distract this man's focus.

After half a week of attempts, the man was actually able to get close to scraping the hindquarters of the racing mammal, squealing in protest as it'd dive out of the way and propel itself with unreal momentum. Seeing him doing this gave him an idea -from the look of brightening in his step and the glint in his eyes, as the Shinling could tell- as he repeated the manner in a deliberate fashion. It puzzled him why he went after it without altering his course, especially when he could tell he knew it was not a useful means.

A full day later, and he saw it.

Utsuro made a loud whistling sound as he scraped the backside of the swine yet again, provoking it to cry out in fright and began to thrust off like a comet propelling across a planet's sky. Stopping still, Utsuro squatted in place and turned around, waiting for it to do a full revolution across the planet at its breakneck speed. Just as he saw the outline of its rush from the horizon, he clapped his hands and thrust both palms out behind him...

...discharging a pair of propulsive flares of _ki_ from his palms as his feet kicked off the ground of the dense planet. By the time Sentetsu saw the Human's fiercely grinning outline did it squeal in horror, unable to change course or slow down. The sound of thunder clapped, a gust of wind brushing across the grass and blew the Mowhawk of the Kaiō as he watched with widened eyes and a bright smile of awe. In the midst of the cloud of smoke, the impact site revealed a bruised and dirtied Utsuro, wrestling with Sentetsu in his grasp, its hooves kicking and hits snout swishing back and forth.

Finally held aloft by its hind-legs, Utsuro laughed as he held the Kaiō's pet in front of him, oblivious of his unsightly appearance after wrestling with it, "Look! I caught your pig!"

"That you have," Zamasu replied with a soft smile, chuckling with a shake of his head. "Though you didn't need to wrestle it. You're lucky you're a sturdy Human, given that my Sentetsu could've bludgeoned you severely had you been less prepared. Still, it's remarkable progress and you've passed the first test in less than a week."

"Of course!" Utsuro finally released the pig with a plop, earning a hind kick to his shin that made him yelp; falling promptly onto his face, getting dirt kicked into it after the fact.

"After you've cleaned yourself up," The Zamasu intoned with more authority. "We can begin your second test."

Dusting himself off, his desire for revenge against the super swine was stowed away in rapt anticipation of beginning the next test.

Smiling a bit mischievously the green-skinned Shinling raised his hands, as if to show something the White-Haired Human couldn't see with his slanted eyes. Placing them slowly behind his back, the tips of his boots left the planet's surface, a swirling breeze emanating from the spot of his levitation. Exerting just a fraction of his _godly ki_ made the planet's grass blow back and Utsuruo felt an electricity in the air, reflexively settling into a squatted posture with hands clasped in a prayer stance.

"Your next test," He announced, chuckling aloud in jest. "Make me use both of my hands. I will not attack you, but in kind, you must make me defend myself seriously."

Utsuro grinned, letting his power rise up and release around in a majestic golden shine. Like that of a Bhudda, his form became a heavenly halo that emanated from him with a strong resolution and his demeanor seemed enhanced by this force he brought to the fore. The environment that was subtly hinting with influence of a higher power now visibly reacted; with sparks of gold dancing to and fro across the air, snapping around like ether-borne fireflies that twinkled around their vicinity.

It was a marvelous aura, and one that made Zamasu's eyes bright in reflection of it. Like magic, this Human continued to bring new surprises the likes of which he never saw in Creation across his domain of the Cosmos. His demeanor must have triggered something, cause the flow of white hair and the narrowing of slanted eyes was the only indicator he was going to move-

 _Thuum!_

A reflexive swing of his arm, moving faster than his eyes briefly could track his pupil's attack. He blinked and tried to process what was a golden fist that struck from far away and up close at the same time. The illusion was uncanny, but his trained mind's eye had enabled his reaction to deflect the blow with nary but a scuff on his godly robe's left sleeve.

Renewed with clarity, he refocused his senses upon the man standing away from him, seeing his surprise that he had caught the attack. Truly it was a sneak attack that he had meant to end the battle in a single instant. Or was it just the feat itself that impressed?

"Impressive," He complimented, retracting the defending arm back behind him once again, not altering his position or his altitude a mere foot off the grassy soil. "You managed to create a wonderful technique, piercing past my own eyes in such grand speed and precision at the moment of execution. However, that didn't even faze and I'm remiss that it only took one hand to block it."

"The fact you could react without seeing it shows just how much higher you are above me, Lord Kaiō," He revered in his reply, his smile reflecting his mystification at the godly motion made before his own perspective. "I did not even see you move when I attacked."

"Seeing with your eyes is a limitation you will overcome, once you've completed your training," Zamasu inferred with assurance, his face beaming once more to invoke confidence in his pupil. "Now, come. Push yourself higher still and overcome this obstacle."

"As you command, Lord Kaiō!" Utsuro cried out, his efforts renewed and the glow of his aura heightening to a beautiful gleam for the upcoming battle.

* * *

The combat training raged on for far longer than the pupil anticipated, for that he could tell. The fluid defense of Zamasu was uncanny, capable of defending even with his means of protection kept in a disadvantageous position. This was just a taste of his teacher's true fighting potential, given the point was to make him take his assault seriously. His fighting power was far and wide leagues above most Humans he's seen from his heavenly pedestal, but it still had room to be broken down and molded into its fullest potential.

From what he experienced in the days of dealing with his method of combat, it was a combination of _ki_ control and long-range strikes. While he was no slouch in the physical department, this means of battling wasn't altered throughout their exchange. Whether this was a lack of melee forte or realizing the gap was too wide to make the Kaiō defend seriously, he wasn't sure.

After a week, the pattern of realization came to his student once again.

In the development of a means of striking at the Green Kaiō faster, Utsuro had come up with an epiphany -similar to how he had with Sentetsu- that was shown in the slightest change in his body language and emotions. Not commenting, he just smiled a bit more and awaited to see what this plan was. He knew it was only a matter of time till this theory was put into action.

A full day later, and their battle was renewed once again.

Utsuro had opened up with his usual daily amount of golden-kikōha that mirrored the imprint of his fist. Firing them off in rapid succession, he'd appear on the outside vibrating and warping space while the air was constantly ripped asunder in its near teleportation effect the technique had on the environment. Simultaneously, the Kaiō's arm was but an invisible blur whose imprint was only seen when the crescendo of attacks were being battered in rapid pace, scuffing the sleeve and ruffling the clothes to the flecks of white bangs on the green-skinned Kaiō's head.

Today, Zamasu noticed some of the attacks were widening farther away from the reach of his arm. It was a simple thing, but it raised his attention enough to persist in parrying the attacks harder, to ensure there were no openings.

Utsuro, seeing the Kaiō narrow his lens of awareness, discharged a fist-shaped kikōha but this time made sure it missed the reach of his teacher entirely. Whipping around in an circle, it moved to hit towards the arm that hadn't been used at all in the week they've been training. Compensating for his lack of reach, Zamasu backpedaled to avoid the streaking bullet while following its path with his eyes, his arm still automatically deflecting the ceaseless punches sent his way.

Then, Utsuro shifted from his squatted stance in a sparking flash. In a propulsive thrust, he appeared just beneath the Kaiō's gaze, gaining his attention again. White hair whipped around the Human's scalp as was but a meter away, nearly hiding the broad grin on his face as his unoccupied fists palmed the ground and pushed him upward with a snap kick

Catching the toes before it struck his chin, at chest level, it wasn't until he caught on the periphery a familiar glow encroach from Utsuro's fists. An instant later, the fist-shaped kikōha were launched and a loud impact was made. In the dust that was displaced, Utsuro shared a smile with the Kaiō as he saw the left hand had turned to have its sleeve scuffed in defense of his face while keeping a grip on his foot.

"Congratulations, Utsuro," Zamasu breathed aloud, releasing his hold on Utsuro's foot and allowing him to drop to the ground with a deft back flip to his feet. "You've passed the second test, with splendid creativity no less."

"Figured that if I can't get past your defense, might as well set you just a little off balance. Can't fight that way if you're busy looking the other way, distracting that reflex of yours," Utsuro explained thus, smiling despite himself with a bit of pride at coming to this conclusion.

"Your genius precedes your talent above your peers," The Kaiō nodded with affirmation. "I'll look forward to molding you into a fine gem from the rock of your form."

"And I," The White-Haired Human palmed a clenched fist, bowing with reverence as he prostrated himself formally to his teacher more appropriately. "Will look forward to learning from your ways, venerable Kaiō."

"As do I," Zamasu grinned, pleased at this turn of events. Dropping to the ground proper, he gestured back to his home behind him on the planet. "Come, before that, let us drink."

Walking to his home, Utsuro waited outside, believing it was proper to not enter his new master's home. Once he returned but a minute later, he had a pair of what looked like sake cups. The Human, obviously accustomed to liquor of this kind exchanged where he called home, took it in with surprise and wonderment. Passing the meager sized receptacle to him, Zamasu smiled with praise, raising his cup in beckoning.

"In exchanging this sake with, I acknowledge you not only as an aspiring practitioner in the martial arts full of strength and clever wit, but confirming you as a student that I will pour my strength into with all the fiber in my being," He declared with staunch provocation.

"And I, Utsuro of Wano," The White-Haired Human replied in kind, raising his own drink but a handful of inches away from his new master's raised cup. "Will begin studying studiously under your careful watch and strict discipline. I will grow stronger from this, not for the search of power, but to also carry out my ideal of being the hero of my home. Representing you, most of all, will be my greatest privilege and honor."

A clack of the pair's cups were made, smiles exchanged and positivity gleamed in the air of the Kaiō's world. Partaking in the essence of the sake marked the symbolic beginning of their journey, and how their lives will forever be changed in the coming future. Both for better...

...and far worse than can be imagined.

* * *

A few more months had passed since Utsuro's second task had been completed. He and Zamasu continued combat training, aiming to improve his form and refine his skills. The two had reached a point that Zamasu considered Utsuro to be nearly his equal, and realised he was quickly running out of things to teach his student, much less to keep him here. And it was decided, on the next morning after the eighth month of Utsuro's training, that Zamasu would pass down to him his ultimate technique: the Celestial Slash.

"Your training with me has nearly reached its conclusion, Utsuro," explained Zamasu. "In these past few months, you've shown remarkable improvement and an incredible zeal for understanding godly teachings. I truly believed humans were something to admire, and you've shown me the traits I've come to love within those in my galaxies. As reward for such a remarkable effort, I will bestow upon you my strongest offensive technique."

Utsuro's eyes widened, before assuming a humble stance in deference to Zamasu. "To be taught your own technique after being instructed in your ways...you honour me, Lord Kaiō."

"The honour is mine," replied Zamasu. "Let me give you a demonstration," the deity waved his hand towards his planet, and motioned it in a waving pattern. The earth began to rise, taking the shape of a golem. It was limited creation — such abilities were in the purview of the Kaiō, the lesser gods of creation. Zamasu turned towards the golem, and cast his free hand to his side. A soft glow began to emanate from his wrist, enveloping his palms with a brilliant white light. "Keep your eyes on my movements." The green-skinned Kaiō shimmered forward, his movements seeming much less like physical movement and more like dissolving into energy. A violent slash cut through the golem diagonally, causing it to crumble. Zamasu shook his hand in the way someone would shake blood off a sword, facing his student once more.

"This is what you will inherit from me."

The sight of such a clean cut left Utsuro in awe. Zamasu had moved with a kind of majesty that implied he had been holding back during all of their training sessions. This man was truly someone apart from the others.

"Give me your hand," Zamasu instructed, and Utsuro extended his arm without any kind of an argument. Zamasu took Utsuro's hand in his, keeping a firm grip. "You'll find that gods have more than one way of passing down their wisdom to mortals. In this way, I impart my technique directly to you." A flash shone between their hands, and Zamasu let Utsuro's own go. The man's dominant hand was glowing a dazzling white, extending into the same blade that Zamasu had used to cut down the earthen construct. "Use this blade for the benefit of the humans, for the benefit of Wano. In your hands, let it be a righteous Excalibur that lays waste to only the wicked. With the Celestial Blade, Utsuro, I give you to your graduation...and my trust."

* * *

Zamasu had allowed Utsuro to return to the Lower Realm in full confidence that his teachings would be used for the betterment of the humans of all worlds, not simply Wano. It was perhaps because of this, that, for several years, Zamasu did not check back in on Utsuro, much less to see what had become of Wano. These were actions he would come to regret later. This folly, the sin of indifference...was what Zamasu would come to see as his greatest failure.

When the Kaiō had finally brought himself to look upon the achievements of his student, he turned to the well within the centre of his planet, and what he saw was a string of atrocities. The Northern Galaxies were stained in blood. It started with Wano, but Zamasu could see that it had spread out from this planet to multiple other planets at a rapid pace. Utsuro was at the head of this bloodstained trail, conquering planets and subjugating races under the banner of his name. Peering deeper, Zamasu saw to his horror the ease of which Utsuro had slain those who opposed him — with the very same Celestial Blade he'd bestowed upon him during their training. To make matters worse, Utsuro had gathered followers; an army of humans that saw his new way of thinking, and they themselves were aiding in his conquering of the worlds.

"What...what have I done?" Zamasu whispered to himself. Eyes dilated and his mouth pulled back in a quiver, as his usual stoicism was breaking under the strain of what his conscious mind was seeing. The inner sight -his Divine Sight- was showing him all of the horrors that were wrought, and the terror his pupil has become. Worse, the shaken demeanor revealed a pale face that he didn't recognize, one that only spoke one thing back at him from the rippling mirror.

He had failed the humans, as they have failed him.

* * *

 **Eight Hundred Years Later**

Eight centuries separated Zamasu from the horrific incident with Utsuro. Unable to kill his own student, Utsuro was killed by the Hakaishin of their Universe. Zamasu could only watch in shame as his own student had destroyed himself, and, even with eight hundred years between himself and the horrific incident with Utsuro. He had doubled his efforts to govern his side of the Universe, and quickly became known as a Kaiō of not only prodigious fighting skill but an incredible work ethic.

And this got him noticed by the Grand Kaiōshin of their Universe.

The man was called Gowasu, a wizened Kaiōshin, known for his patience, kindness, and addiction to sweets. The man had teleported to the Northern Kaiō's planet, approaching Zamasu with a kind smile. He extended a hand towards the Kaiō, his Potara gleaming brightly. "So you're Zamasu. I've heard many stories about you. You've made a few mistakes, but you're earnest and you mean well. Why don't you come with me to the Realm of the Kaiōshin and study under me? You will become my successor."

Zamasu's eyes widened, and his face broke out into the first true smile in centuries. This...could be his chance. He could rectify his mistakes of the past by becoming a Kaiōshin. His limited position as a Kaiō was not enough., but surely, they would have the power to better the humans? Surely they would be able to enforce peace? "You want me...to come to the Realm of the Kaiōshin with you? It would be an honour! I will do my best, sir, for the peace of our universe!"

* * *

Reality hit Black like a truck, and the man sat bolt upright in the bedroom of his forest cabin. A white blanket fell from his shirtless form, soaked in sweat, and he clasped a hand to his forehead. His eyes were wide, breath horribly ragged, decorated by the voice he was still only just adjusting to. He heaved a sigh, and cast his eyes out of the window towards the wilderness, the entire nature-filled sight lit delicately by the moonlight.

 _Why would I dream of the past now?_ thought Black. He clenched his fist tightly. _As if I need to reassess my determination. It started with you, Utsuro...but it will finish with Son Gokū. By my hand, all the humans will be culled._

* * *

 **A/N:** _Hello everyone! Hard to believe I have not updated this story in over a year. I had some of the worst writer's block on this chapter, and actually had to outsource some of this chapter to my friend, Demod20. Thanks to him for helping me with a large chunk of this chapter, I wouldn't have gotten it done without him. To go over a few things, let's discuss names. The female Kaiō I introduced is named Ansu, and the name Ansu comes from (_ _あんす_ _, to be), sharing Zamasu and Gowasu's name pun. The name Utsuro comes from (_ _虚_ _, emptiness), and is a whole reference to a Gintama character of the same name. His planet, Wano, comes from Wa no Kuni (_ _和の国_ _, Country of Harmony), used as a name for Japan. And finally, the Celestial Slash (_ _天斬り_ _, Tengiri) is the name I'm giving to Zamasu's hand blade. I know the name is God-Splitting Cutter (_ _神裂斬_ _Kami Retsuzan), but I like to imagine it gained that name when he slew the gods._

 _Anyway, I'll try and update again soon! See you all then!_


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